Lucky
by i-effed-it-all-up
Summary: ""We are very, very lucky." Aaron chooses this moment to tune into the conversation and begins to yell "Lucky! Lucky!" in his excitement. You smile at her. She smiles at you, then turns to charge at your son. He squeals, letting her lift him in her arms and yell "Yes! So lucky to have our boy!" before kissing him hard on the side of his head." / oneshot


Today is the day.

Your heart won't stop pounding; you feel light headed and nervous. Your hair is ten times the size it was earlier this morning because you can't stop running your fingers through it – a nervous habit. You've been itching for a smoke, but you quit just for this specific reason.

You can tell she wants to smoke, too – but she quit her habit as well. The two of you together are a bundle of nerves, buzzing with electricity. You're sure that if you touched her you would be electrocuted.

She must feel you staring because her head shoots up and she looks at you. A brilliant grin lights her face.

"Hey," she says as she pulls her shirt on. You come forward and place your hands on either side of her neck. She radiates heat.

"You're warm," you say worriedly. You cured her of her disease years ago, but you still fear a relapse now and then. How could you not? She is so wonderful the idea of losing her makes you feel like your heart is being pulled from your chest while it still beats.

"Nervous," she says with a shrug and a laugh, and you kiss her – on her lips, her nose, her chin, her forehead. Every inch, just to show her your love and how much this means to you.

"He will love you. How could he not?"

"And you, too," she tells you, and there's such meaning in her voice that for a minute you have no breath.

"You will make a wonderful mother."

—

They've brought a doctor in to tell you the facts. Children with Down syndrome tend to be behind intellectually. Life expectancy can vary. There are a number of health complications, from sight and hearing problems to cancer.

You want to roll your eyes because of course you both know these things already. For one, you are both scientists. For another, you've spent so many nights sitting up on your laptops researching that you could do a seminar on the topic.

"Are you absolutely, 100% positive about this?" No getting cold feet, now.

But when they pass him over to Cosima, you see the baby boy immediately nuzzle his fuzzy head in the crook of her neck like it was made to be there and you know by the look in her eyes that he is the one.

It is written in the stars. Aaron is your baby boy.

—

He cries a lot the first few nights.

One night, you startle awake. Reaching for Cosima, you are surprised to find her side of the bed empty and the house quiet. Aaron is usually up crying by now, but all you hear is your own heart beating.

You rush to his room, heart in your throat. A million scenarios run through your head, and not one of them is reassuring.

And not one of them is what you find next.

There is Cosima, standing in the baby's room in only her bra and pajama pants. She has the baby snug against her chest and he is sound asleep. She sways back and forth, humming a nameless tune.

Of course. In the science of things, skin on skin contact is very important for babies.

However, in your heart you hope it's because he knows his mother has him.

—

You wake up to a grinning face.

"Oh, hello, monsieur," you whisper, and he giggles and squirms. You reach out and run a hand over his shaggy blonde hair.

"Wow, someone needs a haircut," you say. "I wonder who it could be?"

He laughs and burrows beneath the covers.

"Oh," you say propping yourself up on your elbow and feigning alarm. "Where has my Aaron gone? Oh, my-"

He pops out with a feral growl, but you are ready for him, grabbing his waist and tickling. Not expecting this, he shrieks and then laughs so hard he turns red.

"I got you," you say proudly.

"You got me, Mama," he agrees.

—

"They want him to go to one of those 'special schools.' Can you believe it?"

Thankfully Aaron isn't listening – he is too busy trying to color in a flower in the coloring book his mommy brought home for him.

"What?" you say softly, keeping your voice light so as to not alarm your son. "That's ridiculous."

"They say he isn't keeping up. He's doing just fine!" You can see her getting worked up, so you kiss your son on the top of his soft hair and go to her. Wrapping your arms around her, you rub her back. She lets out a long breath, as if she's been holding it this whole time.

"I know," you whisper even though she hasn't said anything.

"He's so smart, Delphine. So smart. Why can't they see that?"

"It's easy for us to see, chérie. The world has trouble seeing it through their social biases. But, you know what?" You whisper this last part conspiratorially, pulling away so you can see her face.

"What?" she asks.

"We are very, very lucky." Aaron chooses this moment to tune into the conversation and begins to yell "Lucky! Lucky!" in his excitement. You smile at her. She smiles at you, then turns to charge at your son. He squeals, letting her lift him in her arms and yell "Yes! So lucky to have our boy!" before kissing him hard on the side of his head.

In this moment, you've never been more in love.


End file.
